When All Else Crumbles
by Iamthe98thallicat
Summary: Sam and Dean live in in 2104 America, where the North and South of their country have been at war for 58 years over energy and resources. When their parents die in a fire and Child-Guardian Services threaten to take Sam away from Dean, Dean knows he has to run away from it all, even if it means he must run headlong into the Warzone itself.
1. Chapter 1

_Hey guys, so yeah, this is my first ever story, though I have read a lot of Supernatural Fanfics before. This is a story that I have had for a while stuck in my head, soooo I hope you like it! Its written in Dean's POV, and forgive me if its a little OOCnow, but Dean will be hardcore in later chapters, I promise!_

_Disclaimerr: I do not own anything SPN related, although I would love to._

The ashes were everywhere—raining down from the sky and eclipsing the sun with dark, gray clouds. Naïve as I had been, I caught a fleck in my mouth, assuming it was a snowflake. Scrunching my nose at the acrid taste, I spit the bitter flake out and stood along the sidewalk, wondering why the sky was so dark, and why the air smelled of decomposer sights. Soon a single, insidious thought began taking over my mind. Fearing the worst, I began sprinting towards a more rural part of my town unit—one that housed the research facilities.

I arrived some minutes later, and all I could see were the charred remains of the building that my parents had worked in. I saw a large crowd of scientists whose clothes were singed, and ran frantically over to them, desperate to find my parents. I recognized one of my father's friends, Missouri, standing on the corner of the street, a blanket wrapped around her. When she saw me, her facial expression changed from one of worry to pain, and tears instantly began to blur my vision. I walked up to Missouri and was given a watery smile.

"Hello Dean," she spoke, voice breaking in some places, "The fire started in your father's wing of the building, and he had no chance of survival. I-I-I am incredibly sorry for your loss. If there's anything you need—"

"Where's my mother?" I demanded, with a faint tremor in my voice. Missouri said nothing, just pointed a shaky hand toward a medical unit where several people were lying prone on gel mattresses, and each person was in a worse condition than the last.

I passed several mattresses on her way, looking for my mother among the many prone bodies already there. Some had scorched limbs, and a few reached a hand out towards me, the names of loved ones passing their lips. Others were not so lucky, and I had to cast my eyes downward for the fear that I would never get rid of the images of blackened bodies and scathed faces from my mind.

I had almost reached the end of the line when I saw the name. MARY WINCHESTER: CRITICAL CONDITION read the words on the plate, taunting me with the simple statement and yet making the fear constricting my stomach curl even tighter. Without the words written on the gel plate, I doubted that I would have been able to tell that it was my own mother lying before me.

Mary Winchester's once beautiful face was covered in burns, and though the gel the doctors had given her were already making them rescind, I couldn't help but stare at the marred form of my mother. Thankfully, the rest of her body was covered in bandages, protecting me from seeing any of the other damage the fire had made. I traced my mother's face with my fingertips, willing her to open her eyes, when a doctor spoke from behind the endless rows of motionless bodies. I only heard parts of the speech, too focused on the constricted breathing of the woman before her too hear much, only: "—too much smoke", "—life support", and "—turn the machine off when you leave."

Why—" I started. He had vanished. Had I heard that right? 'Turn off the machine when you leave.' That's what the doctor had said. He had made it sound so simple: Have me say goodbye then physically kill my own mother on my way out. I let out a small scream into my mother's sheets. How _dare_ they do that? How _dare_ they make me euthanize my own mother? And as soon as I left the medical unit, I would have to grieve in silence and smile through the pain. Because as a functioning society the citizens had to meet certain "expectations", and moving past "complications" without too much thought was one of them.

But as I gripped my mother's hand to my chest, I knew this was a near impossibility. Facing the public, watching them as they offer up their condolences, heads shaking as they walk away from our home, talking about how it was such a shame that "those sweet children" were left without parents. Not knowing the pain we feel, the uncertain future we had to face together. They couldn't have imagined our broken thoughts and feelings, yet they felt sorry for us. Sam and I were to be parent-less, and all I could do is sit back and watch everything I love leave me, one painful moment at a time.

Not to mention the CGS. In a year, I would have to deal with the Child-Guardian Services to see if I were fit enough to take care of Sam until he was eighteen. If I wasn't, we'd be split up into different families in different communities, and I would most likely never see him again.

I was suddenly overcome by a fit of rage. Did my parents even think of what damage they left behind? They had managed to completely shatter our lives all at once, and only I remained to pick up the pieces and bandage others' wounds. It was just so unfair, and frustrating, and I decided to release all of my rage and hurt in one final blow towards my mother.

"How could you allow this to happen to me?!" I yelled at her. "I hate you! You left me alone to not only care for myself, but for Sam, all without you! I'm fifteen! I need to be studying for my school exams, not wondering about the safety of my nine year old brother! We could be separated for life! Is this what you wanted all along? To see me suffer? I'm honestly not surprised; it seems exactly like something you would do! I'm glad to be able to pull the plug! Good fucking riddance!" And then I did it.

I pulled the plug.

At first, and I am ashamed to admit it, I felt satisfaction, as if I had won a never-ending battle. But then, I snapped back into reality, and I understood the consequences of what I had done. I had killed my mother, all because of me and my selfishness.

My knees buckled and hit the tile floor, sobs shaking my shoulders for the loss of the two people who were only ever there to keep me safe, to comfort me. I cried because it was my fault, because now I had to be the parent and bear the weight of the world upon my shoulders. I knew from then on that I would never forgive myself, and no matter what I did I would never let it go, never let myself forget the horrible thing I had done, and I would never stop punishing myself for it. And no one could ever know.


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Hey, I recently noticed that I made an error in the first chapter, where Dean was fourteen and Sam nine. I figure that I'm gonna keep it that way, just to keep Sam as the adorable little brother. Dean is still a little vulnerable, but I swear this is that last chapter we'll see him like this. In this chapter you'll figure out about the war and what exactly is going on. See yousss._

_Disclaimer: I own nothing SPN-related, I promise._

**ONE YEAR LATER**

I staggered to the bathroom, spiking up my short dirty blond hair. Just about all boys in the South looked like me. The only thing that made me different from the rest of the population was my eyes. Mine were a bright green instead of the dark brown, almost black eyes everyone else seemed to own. Sammy, my little brother, was also an exception, with his green-blue eyes that could light up an entire room with a single look. Those eyes peered out at me from an unruly mop of brown-blond hair as he made his way into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

What made our eyes such an exceptional case had to do less with the difference of color and more to do with our genetic coding. When children are yet to be born, their parents have to genetically engineer them for their future occupation, as well as immunities against certain diseases.

For instance, if you were to be a scientist or doctor, you were born with an eidetic memory, and the ability to reach a higher IQ average than others. If you were to be a soldier or enforcer, your bones would be stronger, your body more agile, and you would have the mindset of a person who believed they were capable of anything.

As a result of this coding, one's eyes were tainted a dark brown, to show that they were like everyone around them. And until the North began to do the same, it was also used to eradicate spies. The brown eyes never changed, however, and until Sam and I were born, different colored eyes were almost unheard of.

I was engineered to be a biologist like my parents, and Sam was to be a cardiologist. There was no difference in our genetic code; we were just as smart as our peers and we shared the same immunities. The only difference lied within our eyes.

My eyes at the moment were bloodshot and had dark bags underneath, one of the signs of another sleepless night worrying about the present date. May 13th, the date of my parent's death. Today was the one year anniversary, as well as my GCS evaluation. The Officials would review my first year of raising Sam. And if I were to fail, I would never see Sammy again.

I had promised myself long ago that I would never let something like that happen to Sammy. We had both been through so much in the past year, lost so much, that I had assured him—along with myself—that he wouldn't lose me as well.

And if by some chance it were to happen, well, I had a plan for that. A reckless and dangerous plan at that, but it was something. I had my best friend Jo to thank for the entire plan; without her I probably would still be a grieving heap on the floor.

We had made the plan over the course of the last few months. Her older brother Ash worked on the electrical system for our town, and if he were to get caught helping us, both he and Jo would die, painfully and without mercy, their deaths broadcasted to the entire city as a warning. At first, I had been totally against the idea, but Jo convinced me that Ash and she wouldn't leave a trace. I was almost positive that our situation wouldn't become that dire, but one never knew.

I was pulled out of my thoughts by two arms wrapping around my waist. It was Sammy, his bright eyes peering up at me. "Don't worry, De. Everything will be all right. If you don't convince them, the plan will definitely work. I'm sure of it." He smiled, and I wondered for a second if I could have ever had a better little brother.

"Yeah, Sammy," I whispered softly, "You're right. It has to work." I let him hug me for a while longer. He grew up too fast, hardly looking like the twelve year old I knew him to be. And sometimes I felt like I was the ten year old, and he was the strong sixteen year old holding us together. It fills me with guilt every time, because I am the one who is supposed to be the parent, the protector, and the comforter, not the ten year old.

But for those few precious moments, I let Sammy hold me, and I promise myself that this is the last time I will find myself like this, in the hands of a boy, broken again. And as I believe the lie I have told myself too many times to count, I also try to ignore the poisonous thoughts seeping into my brain, telling me that this may just be the last time I will be able to hug my own brother, in my own home.

These were the thoughts I often woke up to after seeing my mother blame me for her death in my dreams. The thoughts kept me awake with their insidious suggestions, and I had no choice but to listen. Because how can you run away from the voices in your head when they're your own?

Sam and I headed off to school; we would spend a half day there before being sent home to prepare for the evaluation. That meant I had Biology II and History, the latter of which I did not look forward to. To me it was the same thing taught by a different computer simulation every year. How many times could one stand to hear about the Dispute, the War, and the Dividing over and over again?

There was once peace between the North and South, they lived as one in something known as the United States. The civilization had lasted roughly 270 years until resource depletion had left it in desperation. Despite the many "allies" the nation had, every one of them refused to help.

Some of the states had more advanced technology than others, and were less reliant upon the needed assets. They used the sun and the wind instead of coal and oil, and the people on the other side of the republic demanded help from them. The South, as they became to be known, steadfastly refused to help. As a result, the other side—soon to become the North—declared war upon the South.

And so it began, North and South, fighting for energy and resources, doing whatever it took to win for their side. The nation was split into two parts, the War-Zone beginning from what was called Montana and stretching in a diagonal line to a state called Georgia. To this day, the Warzone is a desolate area surrounded by a dense forest on either side.

Florida was considered Neutral territory, but if you asked anyone from the North or South, they were convinced that Florida secretly worked for the enemy.

When the war began, the North had more powerful weapons readily available, but little energy to produce any more. The South had few effective weapons, despite the energy needed to produce weapons rapidly.

Thus, traitors became known. If you were successful, you were rewarded immensely, if you were caught, there would be a slow and painful death in store. Many were caught, but a greater number would make it to the hidden tunnels underneath the Warzone, and bring plans for the newest weaponry or solar panels with them.

In 2055, around 9 years after the war began, The South made genetic coding possible for their population. The tinted eye color created as a side effect helped as the new generation came about, all with the same dark eyes. Traitors were easily spotted, and spies were almost fully eradicated in the South.

This was until 27 years later, when the North got ahold of blueprints to genetically alter their offspring and began doing so as well. This took about 15 years for the South to realize, and afterwards any possible blueprints were locked away in a facility protected by a trustworthy bloodline.

This was all around 7 years ago, and not much has happened since. People are regularly sent into the Warzone, and not many come back. There used to be the threat of nuclear warfare, but neither side had wanted to create any radioactive sites in their nation. Water supplies would be contaminated, and any gained territory would have become uninhabitable for years to come.

Many of the 'Old Time' customs have been destroyed in the past decades. There were stories of families with five children in one household in the Old Times, where today there was only an allotted two per household.

Money was once used to pay for necessities and entertainment, where necessities were now rationed out monthly and entertainment was earned by doing above and beyond in community events as well as the designated job.

As far as entertainment went, the amusement parts and zoos that we were told about in the Old Time were eradicated, due to the danger from the other side. Children now play games of War and are told stories of the great South civilization that is constantly being threatened by the infamous North.

We are taught the same history every year, just as we are taught to hate the North and everything it stands for. I see it as somewhat of a pointless thing, still fighting over things that we both clearly have. Grudges are grudges, however, and I do not believe that either side will be quick to give up any time soon.

* * *

I was pulled from my classes at 12:45, which gave me approximately two hours to prepare for the evaluation.

I dressed Sammy up in his best suit, which, although it was a little too well-worn around the ends, still fit him well enough. I wore my best suit, black with a green tie, although there was a small hole in the side. The last time we had worn these clothes was at our parents' funeral, and it brought back many painful memories to see Sam dressed up like that.

_The sun was shining brightly, in stark contrast to the depressing mood set in the recycling center. Once the funeral was over, my parents' bodies would be sent into hyper-decomposition, which helped return vital nutrients to the Earth's soil. The process was supposed to make the families of the recently deceased feel better about helping the environment, but it made me almost physically ill. What person lets their loved ones become part of the soil and the crops of this year? What person allows someone they love to become nothing but scattered remains among the ground? I had never given a second thought about the process until now. Not until my own mother was the one going through the process. My father would have been the same, if there had been remains to recycle. Sam and I shuffled to the back of the line, the last ones to say goodbye to the recycling box that held my mother and the picture of my father. We soon reached the container, and as I watched as Sam whispered to our parents telling them how he was going to make them proud of him one day__—_

I shook myself from my memories, shocked to feel my face wet, and the taste of salt on my tongue. It was all too painful, even after a year.

I decided to distract myself by reading the interview questions prepared by Jo and her brother. It was the basic guide for anything they may ask. They would take Sam and me into separate rooms and from there interview us over the past year and question our plans for the future. I believed we were pretty prepared for anything, but all of my confidence quickly evaporated when someone knocked abruptly on the door.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Hey guys, sorry for not posting in a while, I am a huge procrastinator. But I am on a new schedule, and I should be updating about everyday now, I really hope that you're liking this story. I plan to go far with it, and if you wanna see anything, have suggestions, please comment them. Alsooooo, a little later in the story, I plan on introducing a love interest *wink wink* I'm deciding to make it Destiel or not, what do ya'll think? Wellp, here we go, I hope you like it!_

_Disclaimer::: Nothing is mine. *sobs*_

"Samuel and Dean Winchester." A powerful voice emanated from the other side of the door. "Your escort to CGS Headquarters is here."

"Yes, we're coming," I spoke, opening the door to come face to face with a pair of extremely muscular bodies. One belonged to a man with sandy blond hair, cut within an inch of the scalp. There was a woman alongside him, her blonde hair cut likewise. Their dark, piercing gaze seemed to look straight through me, searching for any outward problems I may have.

I called Sam down, and was unsurprised when they switched their gaze onto him. I was, however, stunned when I realized that they were looking him over, checking him for any physical damage, as if I would dare to harm my little brother. I was a little more than outraged, but fought to keep my tongue.

When they were done looking Sam over, the man motioned us toward a hover car, which would bring us to CGS Headquarters. The woman, I noticed, went into our house. I allowed her to slip my mind for the moment, for I had much bigger problems lying ahead.

Sam and I sat in the petite waiting room, waiting for our names to be called. There was no one else that I could see around, we were obviously the only ones been evaluated today, and it seemed that the only reason we were sitting in the chairs was because the evaluators wanted to see us fidget. It somewhat disappointed me to find that I was indeed moving a lot more than I should have, and I was also breaking out in a cold sweat, anticipating what would come next.

"Samuel, if would you follow me, please?" asked a young woman, whose name tag read 'Lilith'. Sammy hopped to his feet, and with a single glace behind his shoulder, left me sitting alone in the waiting room.

It felt like hours had gone by before Sam finally came back to the room, but it was most likely thirty minutes or so. Lilith politely asked me to follow her, and I was led into a smaller room than that of the waiting room, with no décor whatsoever. The room was simply gray with a desk in the middle of the space, two chairs opposite of it. I sat down in one of the chairs and Lilith sat in the other.

"Okay Dean, I just want to ask you a few routine questions before we begin," Lilith started. I fidgeted a little before nodding my consent to her.

"Good," she said, "Now, I am aware that your genetics dictate you towards becoming a Biologist?" I gave her a curt nod this time. "How do you feel about this choice in career for you?"

I hesitated a little before saying, "Well I don't really have a say in the matter, do I now? I am definitely smart enough, if you look at my gr—"

"Yes, we have looked at both you and your brother's grades alike, and we know that you both do exceptionally well in school, but what CGS really wants to know is, do you want the job of a Biologist? Is it the career you really want to chase?" Lilith looks at me, and I can feel her gazing straight into me. She constantly pushes her long, bleach blonde hair away from her face, and her thin lips stretch into a sort of half smile. But I can sense some hostility behind the smile, and my hands begin to shake a little more, and my voice climbs and octave.

"I have never really thought of another job besides the one I was engineered for," I say cautiously, searching for the right words to say, "Actually having a different occupation from the one I was assigned never occurred to me."

Lilith hummed as she pulled out a holocomputer from her pocket and made a few notes into it. I repositioned myself for what seemed to be the millionth time, hoping that she couldn't see how stressed I truly was.

"Now Dean how are you and Samuel doing at home?"

"Well I believe that we are doing pretty well together. We always have extra food rations, and our grades are among the best in the class. I mean if you look at Sammy's grades, they are near perfect; there has been no trouble at school or anything—"I rambled on, but was cut off by Lilith once again.

"Mister Winchester, I believe that you are missing the point here. We have unlimited sources of information here, I could tell you the exact moment when Samuel took his first steps," Lilith said, her voice sharp and making me cringe inwardly. She t sighed and said somewhat impatiently, "What CGS really wants to know is how you two are doing on an emotional level. It has been a year; have you both been compartmentalizing well under the circumstances?"

I instantly composed my features into a calm mask, completely disguising the mixture of emotions at war just beneath the surface. The truth was that neither of us had really gotten over the loss of our parents, though we were expected to have long ago.

"I feel like we definitely have moved past the incident this past year. Ryan and I discussed this a little bit after their deaths, and I can tell you that we are both over the grief and are both still meeting the expectations of society and others extremely well." The practiced lie flowed smoothly from my lips, and I gave Lilith a small smile.

"Well Mister Winchester, this little composition states otherwise," a powerful voice emanated from the door's entrance, and I whipped around to stare at the female escort from earlier. She was the one who had gone into our house, the one who I had dismissed from my mind early on.

She was holding a pocket-sized book in her hand, an extreme rarity since everything was done by holocomputer today. It was mine, a gift from my mother for my thirteenth birthday. At that time it had meant nothing to me, but after her death, I began to write everything in it. Biology notes, grocery lists, the odd drawing, it was all in there.

But the worst part was that a small section of that little black book contained parts of my journal from a few months ago. They weren't dated, of course. I wasn't that stupid. But there were enough entries for them to piece together that neither Sam nor I were over the deaths of our parents, and as long as we were around to remind each other, it wasn't likely that we would ever completely stop grieving.

My heart began to pound. What could I do? There was no doubt now, Sammy and I were to be separated. My pulse raced, and my mind became clouded with thoughts. I could run now, grab Sam, and just never stop running. I had advanced knowledge of human anatomy, any by pressing a few pressure points I could easily paralyze them. Sam and I could hide somewhere, get to Jo's house soon enough and escape. It was radical, but frankly, I was desperate.

I was suddenly pulled form my mess of thoughts as Lilith spoke, "Mister Winchester?"

"Yes?"

"I think this is all that we need. You may leave now. We will see you tonight at the ceremony to disclose your results to you and the civilians."

"Yes ma'am, thank you ma'am," I said, standing up to leave.

"We have had the book analyzed already, you may have it back," the woman at the door said stoically. I took the book from her hands, gripping it to my tightly. I looked up at the woman once more, and I saw a glint in her dark eyes. It was gone in a second, but there was some kind of emotion there. Whether it was pity or something sinister, I had not a clue.

I stumbled out into the hallway. Feeling completely violated. The woman had gone through my stuff, found my most private thoughts, and had them copied and analyzed, purely for the hope of splitting Sam and I apart. I shuddered, and made my way over to the chair Sam was sitting in, dozing off.

"Come on, Sammy, we have to go," I pushed his shoulder and he jerked to attention, sleep still glazing over his blue eyes.

"Did we win?" he slurred, "Can I keepya?"

"Not sure Sammy, we'll just have to see, won't we?" I pulled him up to a sitting position and lead him towards the door, taking care of him as I have always done.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Hi guys, thanks for the reviews and follows and favs, I'm giving you all a high five and hug (hug-five?). Y'all keep me writing, and I kept my promise :) It is exactly 11:30 pm, and I did give it to you today, so I am on a roll. I really hope to keep it up, and if you guys wanna see anything special, just review it. PS, I'm leaning to a Destiel story possibly later, no smut though, I don't think. Love you alllllllllllllll._

_Disclaimer: I don't own anything, but maybe if I sob loud enough, the owners will hear my cry and give it to me. Mwahaha._

When Sam and I were dropped off and I could no longer see the vehicle, I ushered Sam inside to find the house in immaculate condition. Not a single speck of dust had seemed to be disturbed.

I supposed it was for the best that nothing was out of place; I was determined not to let Sammy know what had happened. I didn't want him to know that it was me who had made the stupid mistake. I had slipped up, and it was my fault that we would be torn from each other.

I left Sam doing his homework like a good nerd on the couch and went to my room to see if I could get to send a message to Jo. I entered my room and was astounded to find it in an atrocious manner. Drawers were emptied and thrown on the floor, my clothes spilled everywhere. My books and small souvenirs were strewn haphazardly over my overturned mattress, and in the middle of all the chaos was an empty shoebox.

The box itself was from a vintage pair of shoes that existed back in the Old Days, when people actually had to pay for food and clothing, rather than have them rationed out. The price printed on the box said two hundred dollars. I wasn't quite sure if that was expensive or not back then, but I'm sure they had pretty cheap, considering the fact that they were only shoes.

Though the box was considered useless nowadays, I used it to place all the things that were important to me in there. A few antiques, a necklace given to me by Sammy, and most importantly, my little black book.

I still did not really know how exactly the woman had managed to find the shoebox. It was stuffed under a floorboard beneath my bed. Not even Sam knew it existed. Unless…

I picked my way to the center of the room and looked around, not all that sure of what I was doing. I searched and scrutinized every detail of my room until I found it. The only thing that wasn't out of place: my holocomputer.

It didn't make sense to me as to why it was in the same place. If you wanted to find the details of someone's secret life, you went straight to their holocomputer and hacked it. So why was mine untouched?

Unless the enforcers knew that they wouldn't find anything of import on the computer. Unless they knew exactly where to look for my secrets. They could have found out where I kept my journal and staged the rest of the mess to look like they had coincidentally found it. It was possible, and there was even a way to find out.

"Sammy!" I shouted over my shoulder, "We're going to Jo's house, be ready to leave in five minutes!"

I could clean my room in five minutes, no doubt. I shoved my holocomputer in my pocket and began to shove my clothes back into their drawers.

* * *

Jo opened the door before I could raise my hand to knock. Her dark eyes had a glitter of mischief in them, but she soon sobered up when she saw my exasperated expression.

"What's wrong?" she asked softly. I shook my head and glanced pointedly at Sammy.

"I need to speak to Ash," I said, an involuntary shiver going down my back.

"Yeah, I'll take you to him. Come in. Sam, you can do whatever on the couch, go raid the fridge or something," she said with a wink. Sam gave us a suspicious look, the kid obviously knowing that something was going on. But with a sigh he went to the cabinet, took a bag of popcorn, and began to microwave it.

Jo led me down a narrow hallway that led into Ash's room, which was at the end of the hall. We passed pictures of their family, all smiling. Jo's mother, Ellen, was an enforcer, and her father, Bobby, had been a soldier. He had fought in many battles, and he loved spinning tales of his adventures with us. However, one day he went to fight, and never came back. Jo was devastated, and it was this understanding of a loved one's death that had brought us together after my parents' deaths.

We reached the door, and before I could place my hand on the door, Jo wrapped me up in her arms.

"I am so sorry, Dean," she sniffed, "I'll miss you. More than you could ever know. Sometimes we have to say goodbye so new things can come to say hello. Don't worry, you'll be okay."

I squeezed her back before holding her at arm's length and saying, "It isn't me that I'm worried about, Jo. It's Sammy. What if something happens to him? We'll be going straight into the Warzone! There's a chance of us being hit by our own army's fire, we could be hit by a bomb, or we could even be bitten by a godforsaken giraffe!"

Jo tried to keep a serious face but ended up cracking a smile that turned into a full-on laugh. The animal that was once called the giraffe by people of the Old Days were frequently an object of ridicule in our zoology class. It was widely believed that the giraffe was mythical creature, since the anatomy seemed so strange. Eight vertebrae holding a neck is barely enough for humans, let alone an animal with a neck several feet long. Therefore, the giraffe was a large subject of mockery in my and Heather's class.

"It could happen!" I exclaimed, "You never know!" But it was useless, I was laughing out of control as well.

"What is going on in here?" A deep voice boomed. I looked up to see a peculiar yet familiar hairstyle, one the Old Days people called a mullet. I laughed even harder, as I usually did whenever I saw Ash's ridiculous hairstyle.

Jo was gasping between words, "Giraffe is…g-gonna…gonna bite—"

"Save it kid, I don't want to or need to hear it," Ash said with a smile. He comically bowed to me and said, "Welcome to my humble abode, your majesty."

I punched him in the shoulder and followed him in, saying, "I'd feel more welcome if you'd get rid of that awful haircut, or at least cleaned your 'humble abode'."

"Naw, I like it this way. Keeps me organized."

I scoffed, walking in to find a mess worse than was I had found in my room not even ten minutes prior. Crumpled clothes lay in heaps, food ration wrappers and receipts covered every surface, and there were about thirty open holocomputer screens that surrounded a single hover chair.

It was from here that Ash controlled power and supplies for the town we resided in. He and eight other people controlled the parts of the city, maintaining it together. Ash was the best at his job, however, and his skills surpassed every one of his competitors.

"So squirt, how can I save your ass today?" He sat down in his hover chair, slowly spinning around.

"Well firstly, we need to put Operation Leave together, because it's happening tonight," I frowned.

"Oh Dean, I'm sorry," Ash started, but I held up a hand.

"Don't, Ash, I don't need your pity, or anyone else's. I am fine," I said, giving him a small smile.

"Good girl, don't get your panties in a twist over everything, and don't take anyone's crap, you never know what may be hidden in it."

"Ladies and Gentlemen, my brother Ash's amazing advice, guaranteed to solve any problem, big or small," Jo strode in, eating a granola bar. "And I thought the plan was called Operation Don't Die." She pouted.

Ash turned to me, shrugged, and said, "It does have a nice ring to it."

"Whatever," I stuck my tongue out, "Just put it into effect. And I also have something for you to hack."

Ash's eyes lit up with a childlike excitement. "See, this is why I keep you around, you keep me entertained. What is it?"

"This." I placed the holocomputer on the desk. When I received two confused looks, I sighed and said, "I think the CGS has been spying on me since last year. I need to make sure, and I need answers, now."


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Hey guys, yeahhhhh, so about that everyday posting thing...oops. Well you know what that means at least: LONG CHAPTER! Yayyyyyy! There should also be a longer one tomorrow as well, or maybe two chapters instead. Cross your fingers, cause I will. Hahaha, yeahhhh I'm all alone. so please review if you want me to change anything/add anything in the future, or let me know how I'm doing, all is welcomed. I don't bite...much? Love yous alllll._

_Disclaimer: If anyone wants to come help me steal the rights to SPN, hit me up. Till then, nothing is minee._

Ash and Jo both gave me looks of shock and disbelief.

"Dean, that's insane," Jo broke the silence, "Why would the CGS want to spy on _you_ of all people? You are hardly worth any thought about, no offense."

"That's what I had been pondering, but what if it isn't just me? What if it's everyone town, or if it's just those that are going to undergo the CGS evaluation? It would make sense; they could spy on me anytime they needed to within my room, and make sure I was really over my parents' deaths," I explained. It was clear now; it would have been easy for them to have hacked my holocomputer so they could watch my every move.

"But you never really suffered aloud," Jo said, "You kept pushing everything down. That's how you dealt with everything. There is nothing they could have found against you. You said that you knew that you and Sam were going to be separated tonight…so what exactly did they find in your room?"

I looked down at my shoes. They seemed to be really interesting at this point. What that a new scuff on them? I should probably—

"Dean," Ash's voice drew my gaze upward, "We need to know."

I gulped before saying, "They found a book."

Ash looked at me, baffled, while Jo's dark eyes lit up with a strange fascination.

"A book?" she said, enthralled, "You had a book? What was it about? How'd you get your hands on one? I am so jealous, why didn't you tell me? I think that the p—"

Ash cleared his throat, interrupting her, "What she means to say, is what could the CGS possibly want with a book?"

I looked away, ashamed, before mumbling, "It was a journal. I wrote stuff in it with a piece of graphite I stole from the Geology classroom."

The siblings' facial expression turned dark. Jo asked, "Dean, what did you write in that book?"

"You know, I drew some diagrams for Biology because my holocomputer had a few glitches. I drew random pictures, one was of this really awesom—"

"Dean. What did the CGS find in that book?" Jo said, her voice taking on a harder tone.

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath before saying, "There may have been a rough spot a few months back, so I wrote down some stuff about how I wish my parents were here and how I missed them." my voice got quiet as the rest of my words rushed out, "And I may have said that Sam reminded me of them."

Not a single thing could have prepared me for the chaos that followed.

In the moment following my statement, three things happened at once.

Ash shook his head at me, lips forming to ask some question that I will never know.

Jo slapped me in the face, leaving behind an angry red mark that I unconsciously knew would bruise later. Not a single sound escaped my lips. I knew that I had deserved it.

Sam burst into the room from where he had been spying on us behind the door. His eyes shone with unshed tears, and his expression alone tore my heart into pieces.

"Sammy, no, this isn't what you think it is," I began, not sure exactly what to say.

"Are you sure, De?" He spat the nickname, hatred seeping into every word, "'Cause from what I see here, I think that you just see me as a big, fat reminder of our parents' deaths! Why do you even keep me around? You should have just given me up to the CGS as soon as our parents died!" He turned and stormed out of the room.

I moved to go after him but Jo seized my right wrist, holding me back. "Give him some time," she said, "He'll come around."

I wrenched my wrist from her grip, letting out a small yelp as I felt something snap, and the momentum pulled me to the ground.

"I need to go to him," I said, gritting my teeth, "I can't let him pull away from me, not now." I pulled myself to my feet, stumbling after Sam.

I raced all over the house, looking for Sam, calling his name, when I came to the sudden realization that he had left the house. He had left everything here, including me.

Jo put her hand on my shoulder and gently said, "Sit down, he'll come back."

"But he won't," I said, my heart fluttering and mind racing. Against the various protest of the siblings, I raced out of the house, looking around for a sign, any sign, of where Sam could possibly have gone. But it was of no use; Sammy had gone, leaving no trace of where he was going.

* * *

"He couldn't have gone far," Ash said, pulling up a map of our town, Lawrence, on a holocomputer. "The town is surrounded by an electroshock fence, the only way out being through the main entrance, which he cannot do without an adult."

"We can probably eliminate our subdivision, since he knows that is where we would look first, as well as any area within one thousand feet of the fence. He doesn't like being able to see it," I supplied. It was true, Sam was a little claustrophobic, and just a glimpse of the fence was enough to make his chest constrict.

"And that only leaves us with…," Ash pressed a button, his holocomputer running calculations, "42,839 square feet of searching area."

I grimaced. That was about eight miles of buildings and fields and houses to look through, and we didn't have that amount of time.

"Dean, look at me," Jo took my face into her hands; carefully avoiding the new bruise I was sporting on my face, "Where could Sam be? You know him better than anyone, so where is he?"

I thought, searching deep within my memory for the one clue that would bring us to Sammy.

"The recycling center," I said, opening my eyes, "That's where we need to go." I pushed myself out of the chair wincing as I put pressure on my wrist, causing white-hot pain to flash through me.

"Whoa, who said that you were going anywhere?" Jo said, pushing me back down onto my seat, "You need to get that wrist looked at, we'll go get him."

"No, I need to get to Sam," I protested, "I'm fine, don't worry, we just need to get to him b—"

"Stop right now,Dean," Ash said firmly, "We don't even know if he wants to see you right now. We'll take him back home where you can meet us, and then you can talk everything out before the ceremony. We'll see you later." He grabbed Jo and went out the door, leaving no room for argument.

I sat in silence in the house until I was sure they were gone. It would probably take them a total of thirty seven minutes to find out the truth, so I had until 4:42 to get Sam and come home before facing their wrath.

I walked across to my house, going inside the garage and straddling my hover bike. It was one of the best in design, sleek and aerodynamic in all regions. It was blue in color, and used the wind I rode against to power it. I had won one in a writing competition two months ago, and I fell in love instantly with the feeling of the wind running through my hair.

I turned it on, watching the screen that laid between the bike's handles give me its usual cheerful greeting of 'HELLO DEAN'. I pushed the bike with my feet down the slope of the driveway until it gained enough wind power to start. It jumped to life with a small hum, and I pulled into the street, riding about a foot of the ground.

I plotted the coordinates of Plodder Field into the screen, and sat back. The bike maneuvered itself towards the desired destination, syncing with the traffic lights, so it would know when to stop and go.

The hover bike could essentially drive itself; it could weave between the cars, thanks to its motion sensors, and could turn on onto the correct streets due to the GPS.

I normally would have switched the mode to automatic; there was something about the rush that came from riding that cleared my mind and I loved it. However, my wrist had begun to throb rather painfully, so I let the bike drive me there.

In five minutes I reached Plodder Field, switching to manual and changing the elevation as to avoid the tall grass and wildflowers that thrived here. I rode the bike next to an Ash tree, where I powered it down with a whine.

From there, I walked over to Sam who was sitting five feet away. I sat down next to him, watching the sun slowly sink. No words were spoken.

Finally, after ten minutes of silence, Sammy turned to me. "Am I a memory?" He asked, voice breaking in some places.

"No, Sammy," I told him, "You could never be just a memory. Yes, you do remind me of our mother and father, but don't you ever think that I would keep you around purely for the reason of reliving those memories. You are so much more than that, and trust me when I say that you're going to do great things with your life."

Sam snorted and stood, outstretching his hand to pull me up. "Come on, the amount of chick-flick in here is going to make me puke."

I smiled at him and took his hand with my right. He pulled and I saw spots as a stinging pain ripped through me. I groaned slightly and fell back into the grass once more.

Sammy looked at me in shock and confusion. "What happened?" he asked, and I could tell that he was starting to panic.

"It's nothing," I told him, with a smile that more or less looked like a grimace.

"We need to get you to a hospital, right now Dean!" Sam said, his voice steadily rising in pitch.

"Sammy, breathe. I'll be okay. Get on the hover bike, and we'll go to the hospital if you really think I should."

Twenty one minutes later, Sam and I walked into our house, my arm in a RapidHeal gel cast, and my cheek smeared with RapidHeal cream. By the time Sam and I were to go to our ceremony, I would look good as new.

I had been two minutes off; it was 4:44 when Jo and Ash burst in through the door, fire as well as fear in their eyes. Ash's gaze immediately calmed when he saw us, and he stayed by the door. Jo, however, was outraged.

"How dare you know exactly where he was the whole time and send us on a wild goose chase!" She shouted at us, "Ugh, you two are horrible!"

Until this moment she had not seen the cast on my wrist and the gel shining on my face. Upon realizing this, her mood quickly swung from one of irritation to one of concern. "Oh God, did I do that? I am so sorry Dean, I understand if you hate me, but if I could, could I possibly buy your friendship back? I can give you all my hoarded rations, and I have my soul, an—"

"Heather,you're perfectly fine, I'm perfectly fine, nothing is wrong. You're still my best friend," I chuckled, "Though your food rations sound good, I don't believe I've eaten all day." I winked.

"Very funny, Dean, but go eat, the enforcers will come to bring you to the ceremony soon enough, and you'll need all your energy, so go eat some spaghetti," Jo smiled, "And in case I never see you again…"

She squeezed Sam tightly, before coming to me and wrapping me in a astringent embrace. No words were ever spoken, none were needed. She stepped back from us, a solitary tear sliding down her face. She stared at us as if committing our faces to memory before giving a small smile and going past Ash and out the door.

Ash watched her go, before giving a peace sign and walking out, throwing out a small "Goodbye" as he left.

Sammy and I stood there and watched our two closest friends leave. Sammy let a tear roll down his cheek, and I looked away, all the while waiting for the enforcers to arrive and take us away.


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Hey guys, short note today, gotta be fast. Thanks to all who have reviewed, followed, and favorited, love you all. Long chapter_

_Disclaimer: Nothing is mine._

The sun was setting and I was peeling off my cast when the enforcers came for us. The enforcers made up approximately half the population; if you weren't one of them, you were part of a science or medical profession.

Most of the enforcers looked the same, and you often couldn't tell the men from the women. They all had the same crew cut blonde hair, and were a solid mass of pure muscle. The women didn't receive feminine features in their genetic coding; the reasoning being that men may treat them special because they were pretty.

The most disturbing feature about them, however, was their eyes. There was often a cold, distant look in their eyes that made them such a dedicated power. They were encoded to have an arrogant manner, and the training they were sent to at birth hardened them to be ruthless in battle, and to get in a fight with an enforcer was certain death.

Because of the power and authority that radiated from the enforcers, crime was almost unheard of. But if you did commit a crime, it was said that within seven days your body would be found, maltreated and broken, on your family's doorstep. No one was sure if the rumors were true, but there was enough truth in the rumor to almost completely eradicate crime in not only our town, but the entire South itself.

And it was for this reason that when the enforcers came to separate us for the ceremony, we went without a single argument. We gave one last look at each other, knowing that this may be the last time we would see each other. Sammy looked as if he were about to break down right there, and I conveyed as much assurance as I could towards him, before we were forcibly shoved into separate hover cars.

The CGS ceremonies were extremely rare, only happening about twice every year. This was because children like Sam and I were rarely ever orphaned, so evaluations and ceremonies were extremely uncommon. It just so happened that two other families were also awaiting the results from their evaluation. I knew one of them from school, Ruby Jackson and her brother, Adam. Her parents had died in a car crash the same day as the fire. The other family I had never met, but had heard about through gossip. The older brother's name was Balthazar Leau, and his sister's name was Charlie. It was said that he often took out his anger on her, which was one of the reasons that Charlie had gone from a bright, bubbly girl to a withdrawn one soon after their parents' deaths in the same fire that had killed my own.

The ceremony was pretty simplistic; the families would gather in the middle of Town Square, where the eldest members would be separated from the others by a holoscreen. The holoscreen made it impossible for the members to see each other. The whole town would be gathered to see us put on display for us, and one by one the members would walk up, in alphabetical order of last name. The head of CGS in our town would speak about what they had found in the evaluation, and the final verdict. If the result was a positive one, the family members would reunite and there was happiness all around. However, if there happened to be a negative response, the oldest child would immediately be removed from the premises, and the younger child would be paired with another family somewhere in the South. The family assigned would have previously signed a waiver dictating that they were willing to give up not having children on their own and instead take in two children who had failed the evaluations. And while the eldest was to spend the rest of their life in the same town, the younger would be sent to the family, who was preferably in a district hundreds of miles away.

Overall, the ceremony was very stressful, and as we neared closer and closer to the center, my stomach dropped lower and lower to the floor, and my heart beat faster and faster. There were so many things that could go wrong with our plan; it would just take just one thing we hadn't planned against to make everything collapse. If we were caught, I would be responsible for not only Sam's death, but for Ash and Jo's as well.

_Deep breaths. _I heard Jo's voice in my head._ Nothing will go wrong, haven't we discussed every possible action? Stop worrying, Dean. You'll see that everything will be fine. Now stop being a jerkweed and man up._

I mentally laughed at the insult and immediately calmed down. We would be okay. I kept that mentality, and everything seemed alright, up until the moment where the door of the hover car abruptly opened and I was dragged by my previously broken wrist onto an area filled with blinding lights.

Once my eyes adjusted to the lights of the Square, I became aware of a loud roar in my ears. I looked behind me to stare, jaw dropped, at a crowd of four thousand. This was just about everyone who lived in Lawrence, and I could never have imagined just how small it they would make me feel.

I had, of course, seen the crowd before, at preceding ceremonies. But I had always been a part of the crowd, cheering with the others and feeling that I had somehow fit in, like the last piece of a puzzle. It was something you just did, and somewhat felt like we were cheering the person on, helping them gain confidence.

But actually being in the middle of the Square, having thousands of people who are your neighbors and whom you see on a weekly basis _screaming_ at you, is one of the worst feelings you could ever get. The cheering sounds more like jeers and insults thrown at you from every direction and you feel like you're the one missing piece of the puzzle, but you don't _fit_. Because how can you, when you are here, and they're there, taunting and staring because you are different from them. Because you're parents are gone and all you have left is a kid who will probably be torn from you, just like your parents were.

I shook the thoughts out of my head. I needed to concentrate if I wanted us to make it out of here alive. I slowly looked around, taking in every detail.

The sky was dark, the few stars illuminating the blackness drowned out by the solar lights that were meant for a stadium. The crowd surrounded the platform I was perched on from all sides, and it was nearly impossible to see the ground. Jerkweed. This would make the escape plan all that harder to go through with. There would be chaos, and all I could hope for was that Sammy wouldn't get trampled on

There was a holoscreen dividing the platform in half, and it took all of my inner strength not to run to it and try to claw at the screen, trying to get to Sam. I kept my gaze moving, and to my left there were three hover chairs. I sat in the one that was closest to the holoscreen, and closed my eyes trying to drown out the roar of the crowd.

It wasn't long before I sensed movement out of the corner of my eye, and saw Balthazar scowl at me before sitting in the seat farthest from me. It didn't bother me much; I was too distracted with what was going to happen soon enough.

I felt, rather than saw, Ruby come up from behind me. She gave me a small smile, before sitting down and crossing her legs. She jiggled her foot in anticipation, and when Balthazar glared at her, she murmured an apology before stopping. I truly felt sorry for Charlie; she had to live with that monster.

"If everyone is ready, I'd like to begin the ceremony," a powerful voice emanated from somewhere above us all. It was the voice of the head of CPS, Zachariah Halfum. He rarely showed his face, he only did so if there was an important event happening. It was likely that he was watching us all from somewhere in a padded hover chair, sipping a bubbly drink.

The crowd roared, saying that they were indeed ready and that they better get on with it.

"Okay, okay, be patient," the voice said, "We shall begin with Balthazar Leau."

The crowd roared with approval, too caught up in the moment to realize that the ceremony was out of order. They went by alphabetical order. Always. Leau after Jackson.

They knew. My mind was a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts out of control. They know about the plan, we're all going to die. Starting with me.

"Balthazar Leau, the CGS and its thorough investigation has found that you often protect your sister from tormentors at her school, have helped her as well as yourself successfully get over the tragic death of your parents, and have kept your academic as well as your athleticism constant. Therefore, the CGS is proud to say that you have gotten a positive mark on your evaluation, and you are able to come home."

From somewhere behind the holoscreen came a scream. But, unlike what I had been expecting, it was not a scream of horror, but one of excitement. The screen parted far enough to let a small girl of seven with long blonde hair run through it, leaping into the arms of her brother. She kissed his cheek, and the crowd let out a chorus of "Aww"s.

Balthazar seemed like the kind of guy to hate everything. He probably did, too. But, somehow, he must have a heart underneath the entire hard-core exterior. And in that heart was a special spot just for his sister. And that was what really affected me.

"And now we have Ruby Jackson to follow." Ruby took a shaky breath before standing up and moving to the front of the platform.

"Ruby Jackson, the CGS and its thorough investigation has found that you have done little to help your brother Adam move past the deaths of your parents. He repeatedly has nightmares and has lost several pounds of weight. He is unhealthy both in the physical and emotional sense. Therefore, the CGS finds you with a negative mark on your evaluation. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Ruby looked up from where she had recently looking down at her shoes. Upon her face was a sneer as she looked round the Square. She snarled, "I had you all fooled, too. You had no trouble believing I was an innocent girl. Ha, joke's on you. My final words are this: You are all a bunch of jerkweeds." She made a rude gesture before three enforcers came to shove her into a hover car.

From the other side of the holoscreen there was a sob. I felt my heart go out to little Adam Jackson, the six year old who barely knew what love truly was.

Suddenly, projected against the sky was Adam's face, all freckles underneath a giant flop of hair. To the right of his face were pictures of families, flashing out of focus so another could replace it in the blink of an eye. They were finding a good match for Adam, so he could grow up happy. The picture on the right finally landed on a mother who seemed to be a medic, and an enforcer father. There was also a little girl, about age three, holding the parent's hands.

"Congratulations, Adam, you are now Adam Huero, of the Ranick district. Enjoy your new family."

I smiled, despite the pure fear I was feeling. Adam would like his new home; it was perfectly matched to suit his needs.

"And last but not least, Dean Winchester," the voice stated, "However, this is a very special person, and because he is so dear to me, I have decided to come down myself."

The crowd went insane. This was completely unheard of; Zachariah Halfum never went anywhere unless it was extremely important. And now he was here, for a person whom he had never met. Some of the people tried to climb on the platform, but found burly enforcers waiting for them, and they soon quieted down.

Zachariah stepped onto the platform from wherever he had been waiting prior. He walked up to me, confidence emanating form every step he took. My heart began skipping beats, and I told myself it was _not_ because the man who was walking towards me would probably kill me in front of everyone five minutes from me.

"Hello, Dean," he said, his arm outstretched. I took it, and he leaned toward me while he firmly shook it.

"I knew about your plan all along," he whispered, "Jo and Ash are as good as dead, and so are you and little Sammy."

I smirked, looked up at him and asked, "Why Zachariah, do you know what time it is?"

He looked down where his holowatch was supposed to be, but of course he did not find it there. "Where—" he stuttered, realizing he didn't have as much control as he had thought, "Wh—what time is it exactly?"

I held up his holowatch. Ten seconds until nine o'clock. "Time for you to get a watch," I said, before letting it fall.

Zachariah looked down at the fallen object and I punched him on the side of his head, causing him to spin and fall into the crowd.

The crowd had begun to scream and the enforcers ran towards me. Two seconds to nine. I smiled at them, the last thing they'd ever see of me as the clock reached nine and the entire district was plunged into darkness.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: Hey guys, first I want to say that I am so sorry for most likely confusing most of you. Dean is in fact a boy in this story, it was really late last night, and I wrote it on accident. But accidents don't happen accidentally. No excuse there. But is changed now, and I am so sorry for probably confusing most of you guys. Also, jerkweed is the bad word I came up with because, well, I thought that a future society needed different curse words. If you have any ideas for a curse word you want to see me use, or just have a request or idea, please review! But in other words, thank you so much for your follows, reviews, and favs! It really makes my day when I see them up there. Thank you all, I love yous! And now, onto the storyyy. Yayyyy, long chapterrrrr.  
_

_**WARNING: ** There will be minor gore towards the end of this chapter. You have been warned.  
_

_Disclaimer: Nothing SPN-related is mine, though I'd trade my soul for it. Anyone know any crossroads demons?_

The lights went out at exactly nine, just like Ash had planned. He had set the time to black out every light and computer in the city for approximately ten minutes, more than enough to get both Sam and me out of town. The program was both untraceable and undetectable, so that Zachariah could have never seen it coming.

As soon as the lights went out, I immediately dropped to my hands and knees, crawling towards the end of the platform. Sam was most likely doing the same actions on the other side; we were both given nearly the same instructions.

As soon as my feet hit the ground, I closed my eyes and began running headlong into the crowd. One one thousand…two one thousand…three one thousand. I went on counting, shoving past various people and nearly tripping over several people who had decided that this was some sort of drill, and they needed to lie prone on the ground.

I kept counting, and soon I was saying it under my breath like a mantra. When I reached twenty one thousand, I turned sharply to the right, avoiding the pole that was supposedly right in front of me. I kept shoving and running in that direction until I crashed into a solid mass of muscle, momentum spinning me wildly into the gathered mass of citizens. I stood up faster than I thought had been possible, and closed my eyes, wondering which direction I was supposed to be running to.

I settled on just running straight. That had to take me somewhere. And just as I had predicted, it did take me somewhere. Straight into the platform. I had run into the exact object I had been running from.

I took a deep breath and put my left hand along the side. If I walked, following the rough slab of stone, I would find exactly where I had been coming from. Soon enough, after about thirty seconds of careful walking, I found the edge. If I shaved a few seconds off my running time, I could still make it to the meeting point with time to spare.

Again I ran, turning right at the last second before the pole, so that I felt it brush my left elbow. I kept running, careful to move a bit more deliberately, so that if I did fall or trip, I wouldn't go too far off track.

Besides a minor trip over my own foot, I was able to make it to our meeting location: The Historical Museum of Old Times. It held almost everything from the past decades; there were airplanes and cars that ran on gasoline and oil (actual oil, could you imagine!), as well as old technology like computers with a godforsaken screen, and pens, which was apparently something that put ink on paper, which was made from trees. Were people back then actually aware of how primitive they truly were?

But it wasn't the exhibits from the early 21st century I was looking for; no, it was actually from the 19th century, when the people from the Old Times had decided that the amount of a certain pigment in a person's skin decided whether they were superior or not. It was horrible to think about, but in a small way I thanked them for it. It would allow Sam and me to escape from Lawrence, most likely the last time we'd ever see it.

I looked around, searching for Sam somewhere in the darkness. By my estimate, we had about three minutes to find each other and go before the lights turned back on. As everyone was most likely rioting at the ceremony, it wasn't as if anyone would actually see us leave. However, the alarms would turn on, and if we didn't get out right then and there, the alarms would signal exactly where we were, sending everyone running straight for us. We needed to get out of here. But first, I needed to find Sam.

"Sammy," I whisper-shouted, "where are you? It's me, Dea—ooofff." I was knocked to the ground, head hitting the tile floor with an audible crack as Sam barreled into me.

"De, I thought you were dead!" Sam whispered to me, sitting on my chest rather painfully, "I couldn't see you at all in the ceremony, and I was so scared for you when the lights went out, but I'm so glad you're here now, and we can go!"

"Sammy, please get off of me," I grunted, "We need to go; we only have like a couple of minutes left. Let's go." I stood up and immediately swayed on my feet, head pounding. Great, because I definitely needed a minor concussion right now.

"I've got the bags, they're by the entrance," Sam said, gesturing to the tunnel entrance. Way back around 1850, people were kept around as slaves. A few heroics stepped forward to help free the slaves from their owners. They did this through tunnels they called the "Underground Railroad". Fortunately for Sam and I, the tunnels ran right through Lawrence, and an entrance happened to be right here in the museum.

The passageway led to Canada, or what is now called New Americal. Of course, Sam and I weren't taking the channels all the way to New Americal; we knew that at some point in time, the enforcers would likely spot our escape route and follow us. We would get out of the tunnels somewhere along the Warzone border, where we would hike the rest of the way to New Americal, always staying on the outside of the Warzone, where there was minimal chance of being in line of fire.

I opened the entrance; it was very old and made of decayed wood, barely held together. The inside smelled like mold and dust, the musty smell making me choke slightly. I picked up the two duffel bags that held our food and supplies and dropped them down the tunnel, counting exactly how long they took to fall. I judged the distance to be roughly ten feet, and I moved over for Sam to come forward and hover over the entrance.

"It's around ten feet, remember to tuck and roll," I reminded him, rubbing my head. He gave me a small nod, closed his eyes, and jumped into the hole. I heard a tiny grunt and a cough, most likely from the amount of dust and dirt in the cavity.

It was my turn now; I had about a minute to go. I tied a clear piece of string to the entrance, fumbling with my fingers in the complete darkness. It somewhat helped that I had practiced over and over again in the dark, but time was truly against me in this situation. I stood up, thread in hand, and closed my eyes to try to gain some control over the feeling of overwhelming nausea that was overtaking me. I steadied myself before jumping into the mouth of the tunnel. I landed on the pads of my feet, left ankle rolling slightly. The lights in the museum above flickered, and I pulled the string, effectively closing the door just as the lights sputtered to life.

I sighed relieved; then my nausea took over me. I turned away before vomiting up the spaghetti I had eaten a few hours prior. I wiped my mouth with the back of my wrist, hating the acrid taste in my mouth.

I looked over to Sam, who getting out change of clothes out from the first duffel bag, back turned away from me. We were both still in our outfits from our evaluation, both of us in suits. They were completely ruined; we decided to leave them here, since we had no use for them anyway.

Sam threw the clothes behind him, hitting me in the face. I peeled off my clothes, throwing it on top of the bile. The less Sammy knew the better.

I threw on my jeans, and then pulled on a sweatshirt. I slowly peered over towards Sam, who had his shirt on, but was having trouble getting his jeans on. The weirdest part was that he wasn't standing but siting on the floor, carefully worming his way into the pants. He still hadn't looked at me, and I instantly knew that something was wrong.

"Sammy," I said warily, not wanting to set him off, "what's wrong?"

I wasn't cautious enough. "What? Can't a guy put his pants on without being questioned? Jeez you'd think I was being interrogated or something. And I told you, its Sam," he growled. There was no doubt now, something was positively wrong. And whatever it was, it was bad news. Jerkweed.

"Sammy-Sam, it's okay, you can tell me," I said gently, "Whatever the problem is, I need to know about it now. You can't hide it from me, and sooner or later, I'm going to find out."

Sam whimpered and mumbled something that I couldn't quite hear. "Please speak up, Sammy, I can't hear you," I said softly.

"Remember when you told me to tuck and roll?" He said his voice barely a whisper.

"Yeah…"

"Well I kind of, maybe, sort of forgot to. I landed on the bag, and something in there caused my left ankle to roll. After that, I just collapsed to the ground. It really, really hurts to move. Please, don't leave me alone Dean."

I closed my eyes. His voice had pain seeping into every inch, and I knew instantly that his ankle was most likely either broken or dislocated. His voice also seemed somewhat far away, and I knew that my concussion was more than likely trying to pull me into unconscious bliss. I fought against it, Sammy needed me now.

I looked throughout the duffel for a flashlight; the minor light I was getting from the museum's lights wouldn't help me diagnose the ankle whatsoever. My hand wrapped around the end and I used my thumb to turn on the light. The flashlight was solar powered, but would last for thirty minutes without any sunlight prior to usage.

I placed it so that the torch was facing upwards, and slowly rolled up Sam's left pant leg to reveal his the beginnings of his foot. He hissed at first, and then began to shake. I could tell that he was holding in a scream. I grabbed his discarded pants and ripped a large section off of them. I gave it to him and he immediately placed it in his mouth, effectively silencing him.

I pulled in a shaky breath, mentally bracing myself for anything I would see in my baby brother's ankle. I looked down and saw his ankle bone popped out of its socket, the foot twisted to the side, on a diagonal from the ground. Without medical help available, I knew that I would have to push it back into place, and perhaps wrap the whole thing to keep it from shifting again.

I cursed under my breath and looked up towards Sam's face. Fear was evident on his face, and I truly didn't know how to make this painless for him.

I rooted around the duffel for any sort of painkiller, and was relieved to find a minor relief gel pill. There was also some RapidHeal gel, which I could place on the bone once I was done resetting it, which could hopefully make the healing process progress faster than it usually would. Hypothetically it would, but I would much rather have a RapidHeal cast to put my faith in.

I ripped off another piece of cloth from the pants and told Sam to spit his section out. I gave him the tablet, which he swallowed dry, and pushed the new piece of cloth into his mouth. We needed to stay quiet in case anyone decided to come to search the museum looking for us.

I felt along Sam's ankle gauging his reactions to each small press. Thank god for that blow-off minor wound class. I began applying pressure to certain points, slowly guiding the ankle back into its correct position.

As I was moving the ankle back into place, I began telling Sam of what I had done to Zachariah on stage, just to keep his mind off of the pain.

"You should have seen his face, Sammy. He got all pale, and then asked me what time it was. I dropped his watch and when he went to watch it fall, I punched him, BAM! Right in the side of the head. He totally spun around and landed right on top of the crowd," I told Sam, complete with gestures, eliciting a few small giggles from him.

"All right, one last push, and we should be good to go, Sammy. You ready?" I asked. He gave the tiniest of nods, shutting his eyes tightly.

With a final push, the ankle was back to normal. Or, it at least looked like it was. I looked up at Sam with a smile, to see he had blacked out. My smile slipped, and I felt somewhat bad for dragging him into my problems. I pushed the thought away, concentrating on staying conscious and wrapping the ankle.

The entire time I had been pushing the ankle into place, trying to keep a smile on Sam's face, I had been fighting the desire to give into the allure of unconsciousness. It was getting harder and harder to resist, and without Sam here, I was afraid that I would lose that battle within a few minutes.

I carefully wrapped Sam's ankle with his black tie, and smeared RapidHeal gel over the entire thing.

I carefully put everything away, all the while wondering how exactly we would be able to move through the tunnel. That could wait in the morning, however. Right now was time to sleep.

I grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around Sam, making sure that he was okay before I allowed myself to collapse on the dirt floor, completely giving myself up to the darkness.

_A/N: Hey, surprise, just wanted to say that all information about the Underground Railroad to my knowledge (which is extensive) is absolutely true. Also, that is the proper way doctors reset ankles, but please don't try it in any emergency. Love you guys._


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Hey, yeah I am really sorry for leaving you guys for two whole days, but I seriously just needed a couple of days off. So much has happened and its just been hard for me. So I think I may upload two chapters today, just to beg for all of your forgiveness. Thank you to all of my followers, favs,and reviews , love you all! And if you are just passing by and reading, I love you too! And if you are a hobo on the street, I love you! I hope you like! _

_Disclaimer: *sighhhhhhhhhh* Nothing of the SPN relation is mineee_

I was woken up roughly an hour later by a sharp backhand to my face. My eyes shot open and I immediately sat straight up, preparing for a fight. I groaned and clutched at my pounding head. I was in no shape to fight, let alone even sit up.

It turned out that I didn't need fight anyone. Sam had turned in his sleep, causing his hand to fly into my face. It was for the best, however, that I had woken up after an hour. It was always dangerous to sleep with a head injury, and if I had kept on sleeping, there could have been a chance that I wouldn't have woken up again.

Not wanting to take any chances by going back to sleep, I slowly unpacked the duffel bags, analyzing each thing and putting them into piles.

We had a First-Aid kit, complete with three wraps, two bottles of RapidHeal gel, a flare, and five packages of hot pills. The pills were for staying warm. They had a red side as well as a blue side. When you swallowed the tablet, the red side would successfully keep your body temperature high for an average of eight hours. Then the blue side would take effect, cooling the body back to its normal temperature. The pill was often used to battle fevers as well as warm up exposure victims.

Other than the clothes we were wearing, there were three more pairs of clothes for me and four for Sam. They all consisted of jeans and t-shirts, as well as a jacket for each of us. This was for when we began going farther north, and the weather got slightly colder. There wasn't much to worry about, though, because the lowest temperature it would get was around 34 degrees. This was due to the Old Time habits; the layer of Ozone protecting us from the Sun's rays was almost completely dissipated. Most of the icecaps on the top of the world had melted, and seriously affected most of the ecosystem. This was one of the reasons that the War split up the country easily. There were already tensions over resources, and as the price of living slowly went up, people became desperate, even willing to go against their own brothers just to survive. This is what truly makes people of the Old Times savages, for only they could destroy their own planet, and then in turn destroy themselves.

In another spot a few knives and around a hundred QuickStarts were placed. The knives were for protecting ourselves in case we ran into any animals. We had such limited information on the Warzone that anything could be lying in the dense forest surrounding it. The knives were our only real protection against anything that could be lying in wait. The QuickStarts were essentially easy to handle fire kindling. You created friction with it between your hands before throwing it into a pile of wood or leaves. The QuickStart would in turn begin shaking, creaking friction between the materials, soon setting them aflame.

There were dozens of water bottles, as well a food processor and more packs of food than I could imagine. They were WaterMaker packets, which meant that you needed to put the sand-like substance in a food processor, as well as a tablespoon of water. After around a minute, your food, whatever you had chosen to make, was ready to eat.

Two plates, glasses, and forks were all carefully preserved in a decomposable plastic bag, and there was also a water purifier. I grinned. This meant that if we happened to run out of water, which was highly unlikely, we would be able to purify rainwater to continue to survive.

I began rooting through the WaterMaker packets, looking for something to make Sam and me. I settled on cheeseburgers since the thought of spaghetti made me queasy, and because burgers were one of my favorite foods.

I poured the grainy substance into the square processor, and added a few capfuls of water. The processor was slightly bigger than my head, and it gave off a low hum as it began converting the tasteless particles into a mouthwatering burger.

Within forty seconds, the lid popped off with a small hiss, and I reached inside to pull out a still steaming cheeseburger, and a few salty French fries. I refrained to devour the sandwich, instead taking small, tentative bites. I wanted to make sure that I would be able to keep the meal down, rather than add it to the pile of spaghetti by the entrance of tunnel.

After a little more than half of the meal was eaten, I went over to check on Sam. I slowly removed the tie from his leg, looking at the joints. The Rapid Heal gel had disappeared; it had either evaporated or absorbed through Sam's skin. Hoping it was the latter, I slowly moved the joint. Sam winced and groaned in his sleep, but if he hadn't woken up yet, the pain was not that bad. Of course it was a great sign, but I wouldn't be sure if his ankle was truly healed until he tried to walk on it. I once again smeared the ankle with RapidHeal gel, and wrapped the joint again with the newly discovered bandages. While it would usually take a few months for Sam to be able to try to walk again, the RapidHeal gel (if it was successfully absorbed) would accomplish the feat in a few days. Unfortunately, we couldn't stay right in the mouth of the tunnel for a few days. I could let us stay for twelve more hours at the most, but we needed to get moving. And in order to get moving, I needed to find a way to transfer both duffel bags as well as Sam to a location roughly two miles away.

I sighed and began looking around for something, anything that would help me make the journey. The walls were made of stone, and there was a dilapidated ladder that rested against the stone wall, leading up to the decaying wood entrance. The floor was pure dirt, and there was little light, besides the little bit that filtered in through cracks in the wood, revealing the dust particles floating through the air.

I paced back and forth, thinking of what to do. We could ditch the duffel bags and I could carry Sam, but we needed the supplies to survive. I could bring one, but if the enforcers were to find it, they would definitely be able to track us down. I could put them all on the ladder and drag them all as far as I could go, but that would leave both tracks and there was always the chance that the decrepit thing would collapse within two feet. It wasn't even sane to toy with the idea of going up and stealing something with wheels and bringing it down here. The cameras saw everything, and the noise would have been deafening. I could place Sam on the duffel bags, tie them together and drag them. It was a good idea, but if we were to hit a rock or bump in the ground, which was very likely, it would result in not only pain for Sam, but stopping in order to make sure his injury was all right. I could see only one solution, and Sam was not going to like it. So I would do it while he was still asleep. I would have to carry both of the duffels to miles to the location, then come back and carry Sam there. Once we reached the leaving point, we could walk a little farther and then camp until Sam was feeling better. I would have to leave now, and I would probably be back within an hour and a half. I could only hope that Sam would still be asleep.

I slowly walked towards the bags, picking them up and testing their weight. I could walk for a while before the weight became too much, and I could rest for a little while when it did. I would most likely be back within the next forty-five minutes, counting that I ran back. I would probably have to; if Sam woke up with me and the duffels gone, he would most likely freak out. He wouldn't be able to read anything I scribed in the dirt with the lack of light, so my only option would be to come back as soon as possible.

* * *

I had started off strong with the duffels, holding both over my shoulder and confidently striding with every step. The tunnel slightly curved to the right at some points, so I kept one of the bags scraping against the right, successfully keeping my sense of direction. My stride kept me from tripping over any rocks, and I was making excellent time.

After the first twenty minutes, however, my steps began to falter. The duffels seemed to push me into the floor with each step, and I began to trip every few minutes. The after-effects of my concussion were coming back, and I soon stopped every few minutes, dead tired, and unwilling to get back up and keep going forward. I persevered, however, and at last came to a fork in the tunnel. Of course, I couldn't see it, but because I had stayed to the right the entire time, I had gone through the correct passageway. I didn't realize that I was finally out of the tunnel until I tripped over a bush, falling backwards and coming face to face with the most stars I had ever seen in my life. The bright balls of energy comforted me, causing me to relax and burrow in between the duffel bags.

_Just a few minutes,_ I told myself, _I'll start to go back after a few minutes. I just need to sleep._

* * *

I groaned as I woke up, something shining bright in my eyes. I murmured something incoherent to my own ears as I opened my eyes and then quickly shut them. Who had put the sun in the tunnels? The tunnels…

I shot up, ignoring the dots that blurred my vision. I covered my eyes with my hands and looked up at the sun. It was ten, by my estimate. Sam had been alone in the tunnels for eleven whole hours. He must have woken up by now. He was alone and scared and it was my fault.

I looked around and saw the tunnel entrance hidden by a few shrubs. I instantly began running into it, all other thoughts besides _Get to Sam_ pushed into the back of my mind.

I quickly lost my vision after running headlong into the tunnel. In my rush of adrenaline I took no notice of tripping over things and crashing into walls. I was running top speed, hoping that he had been sleeping the whole time and he would laugh when I told him about running into walls and tripping over objects all for him. Always for him.

I had been running for about ten minutes when I tripped over something bigger than a rock, but just as solid. It sent me crashing to the floor, face first, and I managed to have my mouth filled with dirt. I choked and spat it out, rolling over to see exactly what I had tripped over.

It was a body. A small, four-foot ten body lay on the ground next to me. His hair was long and flopped in his face, and he had a white bandage wrapped around his right ankle. His belly was covered in dirt, and there were unmistakable drag marks from where he had dragged himself through dirt and dust and who knows what else, to find the one person who was supposed to be protecting him: me. And the worst part was that I wasn't even sure if my little brother was still breathing.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Yeah, ended up not throwing another chapter at you last night. I hope you can find it in your hearts to forgive me. I feel that its for the best anyway. The less you know, the more I do. That didn't even make sense to me. Time to go to bed. Thank you all for reading, love yous. Ohhhh PS, most likely a lot of chapters tomorrow, no lie.  
_

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything SPN related, but in the future, we'll see. Mwahahaha_

I gasped, getting on my knees and crawling over to the prone body. There was no mistaking it; the body was most definitely Sam's, and it was apparent that he had clawed his way through, trying to get either towards me, or away from something. Hoping that it was the latter, I placed my fingers over his neck, searching for a pulse.

It came, slow and steady. Which was normal for someone who was sleeping, but if he was injured and had passed out, I needed to get him somewhere I could examine him.

I gathered him up in my arms; he had appeared to have lost weight, only weighing around ninety pounds. Still high on adrenaline, I walked with him for several minutes before stopping to rest.

I pulled all my current self-loathing thoughts forward, making myself angry and then using the anger to fuel my strength. I slowly was able to carry him farther and farther, until I saw a light.

I pushed forward until I saw the familiar bush covering the entrance. With my last bit of strength, I placed Sam unceremoniously on top of it and collapsed next to him, breathing heavily.

I rolled over onto my stomach, pushing myself up with trembling arms. I crawled my way to Sam, checking every limb over. He was entirely covered in sludge, and knew that I would have to peel the clothes off from his mud-covered skin.

I dragged the bags over to us, my arms threatening to give out. I grabbed a water bottle and ripped open the First-Aid kit, searching for the scissors that I had seen earlier. As my hand wrapped around the cold metal, I whipped around to Sam and immediately began cutting the shirt down in a jagged line down the middle. I cautiously casted the soiled shirt from his body, rinsing the excess grime still sticking to his body. His fingernails were covered in the stuff.

I soon began my examination. There was a small laceration on his side, which I immediately added RapidHeal gel to. I could see the cut heal before my very eyes and a breathed a sigh of relief.

I still needed to inspect his lower body, however, and I soon cut open Sam's pants as well, leaving the underwear still intact. Again I washed the muck away from his body, scrutinizing every detail. He seemed all right, although his ankle had probably been jarred the whole time he had dragged his body. It would most likely take longer to heal, which would make travel difficult, but I was sure that we could find a hidden alcove to stay in for a few days as we both rested.

I felt Sam's forehead and, after seeing that it was a little colder than expected, gave him a hot pill. I dragged him as well as the duffel bags underneath a tree where we would most likely stay the day.

It wasn't until we were both safe that I realized how _hot _it truly was. It was noon, and the sun was high in the sky, beating down on my sweatshirt-clad form. I soon tore it off, leaving me clad in a solid turquoise t-shirt. I took a few sips from a water bottle, at last taking in the scene around me.

There were plenty of shrubs and treed surrounding us, covered in berries and flowers of every imaginable color. I could recognize a few, such as the rubicund grabbleberry and the mauve noppleberry, which were both edible and rather delectable. There were some, however, that I absolutely did not recognize. I walked a few feet over to a small plant that bore many red fruit. They hung from the plant in thin stems which connected to the spikey top of the fruit. The weirdest part of the fodder, however, was that the tiny yellow seeds seemed to have grown on the outside. I held it in my palm, wondering whether it was edible or not.

As I stared at the berry, I remembered a rhyme that they often told children when they took their first Organics class. I muttered it under my breath as the words came to me through some distant memory:

_ White and yellow, kill a fellow._

_ Purple and blue, good for you._

_ Red... could be good, could be dead._

I stared at the object in my palm, debating whether eating it was worth the risk. I ended up deciding against it and walked back to the tree Sam was currently slumped against. Looking around I couldn't see much more, but I could hear almost everything.

There was most likely a nearby stream; I could hear it trickling by me. The songs of a hundred birds filled the air, making me look up in wonder. There were very few birds that lived in my district, they were all driven out, intimidated by either the electroshock fence or the people who live within it. I had never heard this many birds singing together, and it left me dumbfounded. Who could have even suspected that _this _lie right outside of a battlefield? That something this stunning could surround something so corrupted and malevolent?

And there were so many more sounds to be explored and discovered! There was the rustling of leaves through the trees and crunch of twigs as one animal or another stepped on it. In the district, few trees actually thrived there. Since the beginning of the War, trees as well as other resources had become extremely rare. No one dared to venture out into the Warzone to collect seeds, and the few trees we that burgeoned in our towns could never rival the strength and beauty of the trees before me.

The forest ground was covered in grass that tickled my ankles and I fell back into it, truly appreciating that it was not the brittle, spiked plant that I had come to known. I was relishing in the feeling that I almost didn't notice when Sam woke up with a groan.

"Dean," he sat up, surprisingly clam, and shielding his eyes from the sun, "What happened? Where'd you go? I woke up and you weren't there and it was just so dark." He shivered.

I immediately felt guilty. He had been all alone and was forced to crawl his way out with a displaced ankle. I tried not to let my guilt show. "I'm so sorry, Sammy, I had decided to bring the duffel bags here first before taking you. I ended up falling asleep and the next thing I knew I was tripping over your body. You gave me quite the scare. What happened?"

"I woke up and instantly knew that you were gone. I at first had thought that maybe you had gone to the bathroom and would come back soon, but then I noticed the duffel bags were gone, and off to the side of the tunnel your dress was there, over a pile of, well, you know. I thought the enforcers had gotten to you, and I knew that I would have to get away before they came for me. And that is when I truly realized how dark it was, and the walls just seemed to close in on me. I just sort of freaked out, and the next thing I knew was that I was here, the sun shining really bright. And are those _birds_?"

I smiled at him and said, "Come on, you must be absolutely starving. I'll make you something to eat."

"Yeah, I'm pretty hungry. I just have one tiny question."

"Yes?"

"Why am I dressed only in my underwear?"

* * *

After our lunch of turkey sandwiches, I decided to see just how bad Sam's ankle injury truly was. I got him up on one leg, leaning against the tree. He tentatively put his foot down and hissed when any amount of weight was put on it.

As he did this, I watched the alignment of the bones in his leg, making sure everything joint was lined up. The healing process was going quite well, I was certain that with repeated applications of the gel he would be ready for travel in a few days.

For the rest of the night I sat there sitting with Sam, telling him stories about life in the Old Times and telling him what to avoid while we were here in the wilderness. He soaked it all up like a sponge. If we would have stayed back in the district, there was no doubt he would have the gotten top grades in his class. The kid was so smart, but I couldn't help but feel that somehow I had torn that future away from him.

We ate a small dinner of macaroni and cheese and settled down to watch the sun sink behind the trees, painting the sky with ornate colors of every kind. Sam wormed his way backwards towards me, so that he held me pinned against the tree. I smiled into his hair as I slowly drifted into a deep sleep.

* * *

I woke up to a putrid smell in my nostrils and warm breath tickling my face. I opened my eyes slowly, squinting in the darkness. Sam stirred next to me and then resumed sleeping. His head lolled on his neck opposite side of me. My mind, still foggy from sleep, took a few seconds too long to realize that it wasn't Sam's breath that had woken me up.

I looked up into the bright yellow eyes of a wolf. And he wasn't alone. His pack had circled around the tree, making sure that Sam and I would not be escaping from their grasp.

As I looked deep into the wild animal's eyes, my breathing slowed to a stop. The wolf had stood still, as if waiting for something to happen before he ordered his pack to pounce.

My mind went into overdrive, thinking of every zoology class I had ever taken, every fact I had retained about wolves. There had to be some way to get out of the situation, there was always a way.

I was still thinking when the pack leader gave off a fierce howl and the pack began advancing deliberately towards us, ready to pounce.


	10. Chapter 10

When I was nine years old, we had moved to study large animals in my zoology class. In the class we saw many pictures of large bears and wild cats as well as wolves and moose up on the holoscreen. A few of the kids were startled by the pictures of the animals baring their teeth or charging forward. The teacher quickly tried to calm them by saying that these animals were never seen in society anymore, and most likely extinct. However, she did say that if we were ever to meet a creature in any kind of circumstance, we were to make ourselves bigger and shout at them. We could never show our backs, look them in the eye, or run away. And if there was a chance to throw a stone at them without setting them off, we were to take it.

It was this advice I followed as I slowly stood up as the wolves grew closer, licking their chops in anticipation. I spread the two blankets that were wrapped around me outward, and I yelled any noise I could make. There were no words and the wolves halted. I focused at the spaces above their heads and yelled, the blankets moving in the slight wind, making me look like a fierce animal.

The pack leader's eyes glinted with a flicker of fear before growling at me, trying to look fierce. I retaliated, spreading my arms impossibly higher and trying to reach the branch in the tree above me. If I could just reach it, I could try to break it off and throw it at the pack leader.

My hands wrapped around the branch giving it a fierce tug. It didn't move. The blankets fell from my shoulders, and I was left there, small and surrounded. The leader growled and snapped his jaws, and the rest of the wolves snuck even faster towards me.

I closed my eyes. There was nothing left that we could do. In this situation, all I could to was cover Sam and myself with a blanked and cover our faces. We were going to die, killed not by a bullet from the North, or from enforcers from the South, but from wolves, an animal whose story was told to scare small children.

I slowly closed my eyes and slid down the length of the tree, entirely giving up. I covered my face with my hands and waited for the inevitable blow. When it didn't come, I looked up to see Sam, leaning on one leg against the tree, brandishing a tree branch that was on _fire_. Like I had, he was yelling at the wolves, screaming random words at them and brandishing the flaming branch as if it were a sword. The pack leader ventured too close and singed his fur. The wolf whimpered and turned to run, tail between his legs. The pack glanced back at us before running after him, disappointed at the loss of a meal.

Sam dropped the stick and fell to the ground, clearly exhausted. I covered the still burning fire with the blankets, effectively smothering it, before turning to gape at my little brother.

"How did you do that?" I asked, awed.

"Your shouting woke me up, and I saw that we were surrounded. When you pulled on the branch, another smaller one happened to fall to the ground next to me. I reached into the duffel and got a QuickStart before standing on one leg. When you sank to the ground I set the limb on fire and started yelling at them. Great distraction by the way, you had me fooled, and the wolves' attention was on you alone. They didn't even see me coming," Sam said smiling.

I weakly returned it, and grabbed the two blankets from off of the branch. The blanked nearest to the fire had been reduced to tatters, and fell apart at my touch. The second one seemed all right, but I was sure that the insulation had most likely been destroyed. "We should start making fires every night from now on," I said, "Both for protection and for warmth. These blankets are practically unusable."

"Sounds good to me," answered Sam, "As long as I never ever have to pull a stunt like that again. Being fearless sucks. I'd rather have you do it." I smiled.

We ended up staying awake for the rest of the night, too high off of adrenaline to do much. We had a breakfast of eggs and sausage and watched the sun rise above the trees.

I discussed the strange fruit with the outside seeds with Sam and together we debated where eating them was a wise choice or not. He reminded me that although the red berries could be poisonous, only ones growing in clusters could be possibly dangerous. The single ones were most likely not poisonous.

Thus we found ourselves by the plant, each holding a berry in our hands. "Bottoms up," I declared before taking a bite of the fruit. It was sweet, and the juice ran down my chin. It was delicious, and I quickly deemed it not poisonous. I looked over to Sam and saw that he had not taken a bite from the fruit and was instead watching me.

I decided to have some fun with him, dropping the fruit on the ground and falling backwards, twitching. He immediately crawled to my side, checking my pulse and shaking my body. He put his head to my chest, checking my breathing, and I popped up with an evil grin on my face.

His reaction was not like I expected. I had expected a punch on the shoulder, a shout of how horrible I was, maybe a few tears. I could handle any of those responses. What I had not expected was a powerful glare before dragging himself to the tree without a word. I looked after him, shocked, and not quite sure what to do. Yes, it was a cruel joke, but it was hardly anything to get mad about. Or was it?

I walked into the forest, searching for firewood for tonight. I would let Sam blow off some steam before returning. He couldn't be _that_ mad. I came back a half hour later, sticks held in one hand, and I few of Sam's favorite berries. It was my way of apologizing, and I hoped that he would accept it.

Upon reaching the tree we were camped out at, I saw that he was gone. My gut twisted, but I could see drag marks toward where we used to bathroom. I brushed off the growing apprehension and crouched down to organize the wood for the fire we would have tonight.

When about ten minutes had gone by, I had gotten beyond worried. Where was he? Even if his ankle had been hurting and he had to take a break, he should have been back by now.

The fear in my stomach decided to curl into a ball in the pit of my stomach. What if an animal had gotten to him? What if he was lying in a ditch somewhere, haven fallen?

My heart began to beat faster and I slowly ran, following the drag marks he had made, occasionally calling out his name.

The marks led farther than I had imagined, and as I tailed Sam, I heard the sound of the stream from earlier getting louder and louder. My jog turned into a full-on sprint, and I screamed Sam's name, willing him to pop out from a bush and scare me.

But as I came to the stream that ended in a small pool of water, I knew that could never have happened. I stopped in my tracks, heart stopping as I noticed a little body floating face-down in the water, unmoving.


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: Yayyyy, two chapters for ya'll today. I'm proud of myself. Go me! So yeah, today was a good day. Lots of writing. It's 8:40pm and I want to sleep. I'll probably have something for you tomorrow. Thanks all of you for reading and as per usual, I love youssss. Enjoy!  
_

_Disclaimer: I do not own anything SPN related, butttttttt who knows, maybe one day. _

"Sam!" I screamed, leaping into the water running towards him. I tuned him over and pulled him by his armpits to the shoreline. I placed him on the ground before going to his side. I checked his pulse, which was abnormally strong. I put my head to his chest to see if he was properly breathing.

He popped up, an evil smile sprouting across his face. "Gotcha!" he declared, smirking at me, "Not so fun when you're the one panicking, huh?"

I took several deep breaths, trying to regulate my pounding heart. I was so angry; I could have slapped him right then and there. However, I knew that I had pretty much deserved it. I had made him suffer, so he had done the same to me. It was truly the worst feeling—seeing someone you love so much almost die in front of you.

"All right, I'm sorry," I apologized, fists clenched at my sides. I was just so _angry_. "You're just luck you weren't dead, else I'd have to kill you twice."

Sam grinned, "Yeah, I'd really be in trouble then. You'd bring me back from the dead just so you could kill me again. Carry me back to camp, won't you? My arms hurt."

I rolled my eyes before picking him up, back against one arm and the back of his legs against the other. We slowly made our way back to the tree where I placed a soaking wet little brother. I threw another change of clothes at him, saying, "Change your clothes, you smell like a wet dog. I'll be right back; I have to go to the bathroom."

I left, going to the small group of bushes we used as the bathroom. It was around twenty feet from our tree, so I walked a little further before hitting the tree nearest to me as hard as I could. My knuckles cracked with the amount of force and I pulled my hand back with a hiss.

That idiot! Did he even begin to fathom about what he had put me through? Every time I closed my eyes I saw his body, rigid and pale, floating on the surface of the water. I loved the kid to death, but sometimes he just took things too far. I ran a hand through my hair, taking deep, calming breaths. I walked slowly back to our site, capping off my anger for the moment. When I came to the tree, I saw Sam eating some of the berries I had brought him.

"These red berries we found earlier are really good! And you got me noppleberries? You're the best, Dean!" he exclaimed, wiping dark juice from his lips.

I smiled. Sammy's puppy dog look could melt any heart, and any anger I had held on to quickly dissipated. I joined him on the floor and together we at the berries I had found, chatting about anything that had happened to cross our minds.

Soon, however, it was time to check on Sam's ankle. I took the wrap away from it and helped him to stand against the tree. He was able to put weight on it, and even stand on his own for a few seconds before the pain made him keel into my arms. The gel was clearly being absorbed by his skin nicely, and I predicted that he would be able to take his first few steps by the next day. The day after tomorrow we would have to leave no matter what, for it wasn't going to be long before someone found out where we had gone and come after us. We needed to get going and stay moving, whether Sam was properly healed or not.

For the rest of the day we simply talked. With Sam injured we couldn't explore more of the forest around us, and I didn't want to waste my energy carrying him around everywhere. We ended up so bored that we talked about the weather, the North, the animals, anything and everything.

It wasn't long before I decided to teach Sam how to play checkers. We were bored and I decided that he should know how to learn. I tore out the grass next to the tree and drew a square and sectioned it into smaller squares. I walked around and it wasn't long before I had a rather large collection of nuts, seeds, and rocks. I came back to Sam, who was chewing on a redberry, which was what we had decided to call the strange fruit.

"Watcha doing?" Sam asked around a mouthful of the berry.

"I'm going to teach you how to play checkers," I announced. "Come on, it's really easy to learn. I bet you could beat me with your eyes closed once I teach you."

Using the nuts and seeds and stones I had procured, I lined them up and began to teach Sam the concept.

* * *

An hour later, it was seven to three, and Sam was winning. I had let him win the first few games, but as he adapted and understood the game, I began to play for real. I still lost against him. And I was still losing as I announced, "It's all my fault, you know."

Sam looked up at me quizzically before jumping one of my pieces. "Exactly what is your fault?"

"Everything. What isn't? I dragged you here, I left you alone, I'm the one who started this whole thing," I said. I jumped his piece.

"Dean, nothing's your fault. I'm the one who went with you. I forgot to tuck and roll when you specifically _asked_ me to. I crawled after you when I should have stayed put. King me," he argued, pushing his piece into the dirt square at my end of the board.

I placed a leaf on his piece, declaring it king, "But if I hadn't dragged you in here in the first place, none of this would have happened."

"And if Mom and Dad were still alive, we'd be in our house, with them teaching me this game. There is nothing that you could have done, Dean. It is what it is. You can't defy fate. King me."

I huffed and placed yet another leaf on his stone. "But—" I tried to argue.

"But nothing. This is out of your control. Just like me beating you again and again in checkers. King me."

I scowled at him and punched him in the shoulder playfully. "Only because I'm letting you win," I winked.

"Please, you stopped letting me win six games ago. King me."

* * *

We ended up playing until the score was twenty to six, and I became sick of Sam beating me. We ate berries and ham for dinner, and I used a QuickStart to start the fire. We sat there in comfortable silence, not talking but just staring as the millions of stars began to appear in the sky.

Sam fell asleep a half an hour after I set the fire, but I lay awake, waiting. I wasn't quite sure what I was waiting for, but I knew that it was coming soon.

Sure enough, after around a couple of hours of waiting, I heard a noise coming from the general direction of the tunnel entrance. I doused the fire with a bottle of water and covered it with the blanket, hoping whatever it was would leave.

By the light of the moon and the stars, I could discern three silhouettes emerge from the tunnel entrance. They were huge masses of muscle, and I immediately knew that they were enforcers.

One sniffed the air like a mutt, and I desperately hoped that he couldn't smell the remnants of our fire.

"They were here," said the tallest shadow, who seemed to be the leader. He was Enforcer #1. "I can tell."

"But where are they now?" asked the one next to him, the one who had smelled the air. I decided to name him Enforcer #2.

"They are close. By the drag marks we saw earlier, one of them is probably injured. We should be able to get to them easily."

"When do we move?" asked the smallest enforcer, most likely one fresh out of school. He was declared Enforcer #3.

"We'll begin tracking them at first light. We need to rest and be prepared for anything when we start. Let's head back. We'll return here at dawn," said Enforcer #1, before heading back into the mouth of the channel.

Enforcer #3 quickly followed at his heels like a small dog, while Enforcer #2 stopped. He looked around the area, and his gaze seemed to halt right on the spot where Sam and I lay. I waited with bated breath as he took a small step toward us.

With no warning, a wolf suddenly bayed. It was close, probably no more than ten feet away from the enforcer. He quickly jumped, whirled around, and proceeded to walk back into the tunnel.

I let out the breath I had been holding. We needed to move, and now. Far away from here and fast. I began to pack our supplies back up and nudged Sam with my foot. He sat up and blinked his eyes blearily.

"We need to go, now. Enforcers were just here. They'll be coming for us in the morning," I stated. Sam's eyes widened before he joined me in packing the rest of our materials up.


End file.
